I headed to my back deck, and stretched out on the chaise lounge letting the sun beat on my face. About twenty minutes later my hubby called. He had invited our friend's over for dinner and DVDs. Quiet time was over, better hop up and get moving. I needed to hit the store if we were going to have something to feed everyone. I corralled the dogs into the kitchen while at the same time calling our friends to coordinate the menu. I should have learned from my debacle with the golf cart this past weekend that talking on the phone while trying to do something else was a bad formula for me, but apparently I am a slow learner. As I struggled to step over the dog gate with my phone to my ear, I snagged my foot on the top edge of the enclosure and sent myself and my phone flying.
My initial concern was for my phone, and I quickly snagged it up for inspection. It seemed to be OK, so I headed out the door to the store. As I moved up and down the aisles of Target picking up items for the evening, however, I started noticing multiple aches and pains. Apparently, I had managed to do some damage.... just not to my Blackberry! After a little further examination, I realized I had scratched my foot from where I dragged it across the top of the gate. My knee felt a little banged up, and I was starting to get twinges up and down the right side of my back. I finished my shopping and headed back to the car. I'm still not quite sure what happened next, but as I began loading the groceries into the back seat of my car, I stumbled again. I lurched forward and caught the top of mouth against the bottom edge of the door frame. The impact was hard enough to rattle my teeth and cause a split along the top edge of my lip which immediately started bleeding. Perhaps God was trying to send me a message...I should have been working out!
By the time my friends arrived, I had managed to get dinner going, but I am sure I was quite the sight hobbling around the kitchen sporting a fat lip. When I woke Saturday morning, I was still feeling the effects of my fall and though my back had improved slightly, I knew that a trip to the gym would set me back for days. I spent the morning grouching at my husband until he eventually got smart and retired to the outside leaving me inside to mope. At some point, however, I decided it was time to stop feeling sorry for myself, so I could enjoy the rest of the weekend. The moral of the story is "If you are on a quest to get healthy, work-out when you are able, it only takes one visit from the Klutzy queen to derail the best laid plans."
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